Broken
by serennog
Summary: Grant confronts Skye about why she's ignoring him, encumbered by the effects of the Berserker staff. AU from the end of episode 1.08 'The Well'.
1. Chapter One

**BROKEN**

_by serennog_

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Summary: Grant confronts Skye about why she's ignoring him, encumbered by the effects of the Berserker staff. Post-The Well (i.e. Spoilery).

Disclaimer: AoS is the property of Marvel and ABC Studios. I own nothing.

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When Skye blatantly ignores him as they all check out of the hotel early the next morning, Grant is confused. When she avoids his searching gaze, eyes fixed resolutely on the passing scenery on their ride back to the Bus, he feels the prickly beginnings of annoyance. And when she instantly excuses herself, making a b-line for her cabin, Grant gets angry.

FitzSimmons shoot him looks that are both wary and accusing; the latter more strongly in Simmons' eyes. She and Skye have grown a lot closer since the incident at the Hub.

Grant's irritation piques, and it's like his heart's pumping out lava. He sucks in a steadying breath. The sensation fades a little; not nearly enough.

"What?" he asks tightly.

It's Simmons who speaks up, Fitz wandering off to stow away his luggage. "Have you and Skye argued?"

"No."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No."

She seems to read more deeply into his monosyllabic answer, or maybe just guesses his intention. "Just… don't be too hard on her." That said she heads off after Fitz, leaving Grant alone in the cargo bay.

The walk to Skye's door gives his blood time to cool somewhat, and when he knocks it's at a civil volume.

"Kinda busy," comes Skye's muffled response. It's snappish, accompanied by the clatter of what Grant guesses are her various gadgets being tossed around.

He bites back a testy response, opting for something that's less likely to make her clam up. "Skye. Can we talk?"

"Told you I'm busy." There's a loud _clunk_ followed by a curse.

"Look." Grant leans closer to the door, voice strained from the effort of not blowing up on her. "I don't know what I've done, but-"

The door opens so suddenly that he nearly stumbles over the threshold.

Skye's face is a veritable thundercloud. "You wanna talk, huh? And here I thought you'd be all _talked-out_ after spending the night with May."

Grant lets out a shaky breath through his nose. "What you're implying didn't happen."

"Oh, sure," scoffs Skye, crossing her arms. "Because when men sneak into women's hotel rooms, it's all innocent."

"Damnit, Skye!" His fist falls hard on the doorjamb. The pain blossoming across his knuckles is pale in comparison to the rage burning along his veins. "Nothing happened!"

She looks at him with those startled doe eyes. There's hurt in them too. "Then why couldn't you come to me?"

"Because…" He stops, not liking the harsh, gritty timbre of his voice. Swallowing, he tries again. "Because I needed to talk it through with someone who's faced their demons."

Skye averts her eyes, nodding and obviously fighting back tears. "Right." She moves to close the door.

"Skye-"

"Two broken people don't make a whole." With that parting shot, the door clicks shut and locks.

Grant is left staring at the grey-painted metal. His fury fizzles and dies, and the encroaching cold burns worse than his anger.


	2. Chapter Two

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Skye sleeps fitfully that night.

She understands Ward's reasoning. _Of course_ she does. Because May's forged a suit of armour from her hardships, and he can learn a lot from her. But it still smarts that she can't help him. That he_ knows_ she can't help him. And she hasn't felt so completely inadequate in a really long time. Not since…

'_You little brat!'_

'_How many times do I have to tell you?'_

'_Your parents didn't want you. That's why you're here.'_

'_Don't forget: you'll never be a part of this family.'_

'_We can't keep her. She's more trouble than she's worth.'_

She gets out of bed, pulling on a hoodie over her wife-beater before quietly leaving the room she's sharing with Simmons.

They'd arrived back in London about twelve hours ago and were given the same suite at the SHIELD-owned building they'd had on their first visit. The four-bedroom apartment's got the Black Suits' stamp all over it. Minimalistic, monochrome, and big on the gadgetry.

Skye pads across the dimly-lit living area to the kitchen, fills the shiny black kettle with water then sets it to boil. She's surprised but not startled when the door she'd just come through opens, and out comes Simmons in a fluffy baby-blue robe.

"Can't sleep?" she asks, climbing into one of the black-and-chrome barstools.

Skye shrugs, divesting the mug tree of an occupant. "Tea?"

Simmons snorts softly. "Like I'd refuse."

Skye lines the two mugs up on the counter before raiding a cabinet for a box of Twinings English Breakfast. After the tea's made, she joins Simmons at the counter and they're quiet for a long time. Skye doesn't miss the surreptitious glances Simmons shoots her, however.

"I'm a good listener if you want to talk about it," says Simmons at length. "Or if you prefer not to, that's fine too."

Skye considers it for a moment before sighing. "Just… a lot's happened, y'know?"

Simmons smiles faintly; sympathetically. "Yes." She hesitates. "I know Ward isn't himself at the moment, but… have you two fallen out?"

Skye takes a fortifying swallow of tea. "Last night in Seville, I might have seen him go into May's room and jumped to a totally irrational conclusion." She rolls her eyes in a self-deprecating gesture.

"Ah." Simmons nods. "That's why you weren't talking to him."

"Yeah." Skye grimaces. "I mean, I knew it was nothing, but…"

Simmons arches her brows mischievously. "The green-eyed monster's a funny old thing."

Skye scoffs. "I wasn't jealous! Just… y'know… hurt that I can't be his go-to guy, after everything we've been through."

Simmons envelops her in a one-armed hug. "Aw, Skye. It's just a hard-as-nails SHIELD agent thing. Nothing personal, I'm sure."

Skye doesn't have the heart to admit that she feels no better for Simmons' assurance.

She's herded off to bed soon afterwards and spends what few hours there are before dawn mostly staring at the ceiling. Despite the comforting warmth of tea in her belly, the voices still taunt her; none louder than her own.

'_Two broken people don't make a whole.'_

She tries hard not to think about why it pains her worst of all.

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A/N: I am utterly blown away by the response this fic's gotten. Just, wow. So here's a tinsy ickle note to say _THANK YOU_!


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